𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 || Tirian of Narnia

Chapter Four: Separation

A/N: Thank you as always to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on this story, I literally can't emphasize enough just how much that means to me and how grateful I am to every single person reading right now!

And for the other name pronunciation:
Shadoht — SHAH-dote

Happy reading!!

xXx

Tirian was suddenly fully awake. "What? Me?"

His mind raced double time to put the pieces together. Gareth was back. His father was back. A council. And he was going?

He shot to his feet, and Gareth chuckled.

"Get yourself together, I'll walk with you up to the castle."

Tirian hurriedly ran both hands through his golden rat's nest and stooped to look in the low mirror on the wall just to the side of the entryway.

Shadoht came in from another room to greet her husband.

"How did it go?" she asked, hugging him and then pulling back with her hands on his waist. Tirian could see them in the mirror, reflected like a perfect painting, noble man and graceful wife, pale hand tilting brown chin.

"That remains to be seen," said Gareth. "I'll be back before dinner, we shouldn't be long."

He leaned in to kiss her and Tirian remembered he was supposed to be making himself presentable, quickly glancing over his own face and rubbing off the residual blood from a scab on his jaw.

Threads of resin-bound patch work peeked from his hairline where the healers had closed a small gash, but overall he looked like nothing had even happened, blue eyes clear as ever, high cheeks unblemished, nose arching ever so slightly where it had once been broken by Hosha's then-much-smaller fist.

He turned back.

"Ready?" asked Gareth, and Tirian nodded, shooting a quick goodbye to Shadoht over his shoulder as he raced out the front door.

It was all he could do to wait for Gareth in the street without bolting off by himself, but the lord's long stride caught up with him soon enough.

Cair Paravel stood majestic in the harsh slanting sun that lit up its every tower and cast Tirian's and Gareth's shadows out ahead of them as they passed intricate clusters of buildings, layered on top of each other to fill every nook and cranny with life all the way up to the palace itself, the grand entry hall opening up around them as Gareth turned up a flight of stairs.

Tirian already knew where they were going, hurrying up the corridor and bursting in through the doors to the long arched council hall, already filled with lords and other important officials seated along the dark table that spanned the length of the room and gleamed in flickering lamplight.

Tirian's eyes flew at once to his father where he stood speaking with another lord, royal robes still dirty from riding, loose grey hairs curling around the golden crown.

"Well?" he asked, skidding to a stop just beside him.

"Easy," said his father, squeezing Tirian's shoulder in greeting, "You'll find out when everyone else does." Then he glanced at Gareth. "I suppose you two were the last ones."

He nodded to the other lord and took his seat at the head of the table, Tirian hurrying to sit to his left as the last of the men followed suit, Gareth just a few chairs down from Tirian.

"It seems," said Erlian once everyone was seated, "That what my errant prince reported is true." He shot Tirian a faint smile with these words, but sobered quickly. "We found several forest homes destroyed and many of their occupants with them. The rabbits told us what they could, but I'm afraid they were still badly shaken, and most other creatures fled the area."